


Crash and Burn

by juice817, semaphoredrivethru



Series: Past Curfew [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Food Kink, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juice817/pseuds/juice817, https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver gets a surprise visit while on spring holiday, becomes a wizard of age, and Bill is an asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _first posted November 28, 2006_.

  
Oliver shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and stared into the now empty Floo. His mother had insisted he come home for spring hols, and then she had taken his dad and left almost as soon as he'd arrived. He'd have thought it was _him_ if she weren't so enthusiastically glad to see him every time he came home. He shrugged with a wry smile. Mum just liked to travel, and Dad liked to indulge her. And now he was stuck here for a fortnight with strict instructions to stay and relax. It would be nice to sleep in, at least. And he could fly as much as he wanted on his Nimbus, all day long, even.

Speaking of his Nimbus... Oliver grinned, grabbing the broom and heading outside. There wasn't any reason not to fly right now. He lost himself in the rush of wind and the freedom of being able to go where and how he wanted, flying so high the air was freezing and too thin for him to properly breathe before taking a screaming dive and pulling up just in time to avoid a spectacular crash. Laughing, he began to roll on the broom, and loop, and do all the tricks he couldn't possibly do in front of the first years. He had no idea how long he'd been flying when he realised an owl had been chasing after him for several minutes.

"Sorry!" he gasped as he stopped abruptly. The owl circled around his head and glared at him, and he laughed and apologized again. It landed on the handle of his broom as he hovered and held out one leg. Oliver took the scroll tied there. "Do you want treats? Horatio will share, Mum keeps a full tray in our owlery." Oliver gestured at a small building off on the grounds and the owl looked at it, glared at Oliver again, and then flew to the owlery, disappearing inside.

Oliver shrugged and opened the scroll to see strong, familiar handwriting. He smiled before he even started to read.

  
 _Oliver,_

 _I'm sorry I haven't written back in weeks, but it seemed for a while there as though all of the tombs in the area were meant to open right then, you know? I even managed to break that one curse I was telling you about -- you remember? With the creeping gangrene that you thought was gross? -- the other day. It's been exciting around here, to say the least, and Nigel and I have been working our narrow arses off. But I think it's paying off since the rumour mill's been running lately, and there's been whispers of things like promotions and heading our own teams. It's not remotely official, of course, but it's a nice thought, you know?_

 _But that's enough of my putting the chariot before the gryphon. How've you been doing? By the time you get this, your spring hols should have started, and I can fairly picture you working those on your team that stayed during the break into the clouds with training. Well, I hope you're having fun with that, and I know all the training will show when you lot play Hufflepuff next month._

 _Anyhow, I know I normally write more, but things are a bit mad still, and I need to go back out into the field as soon as I post this. So then I'll just close with a reminder not to be good, but rather not to get caught._

 _~Bill_

  
Oliver read the letter again as he slowly drifted down, and then a third time once he'd landed, his fingers drifting over the black ink briefly before he stopped himself with a soft laugh. He walked the path the owl had flown, opening the door to the writing room in the owlery and stepping inside. He took a piece of parchment down off a shelf and sat at the small desk there to answer.

  
 _Bill,_

 _I was beginning to wonder if maybe you'd found a boyfriend since you can't talk me into one. ~~Or if maybe you'd been hurt and no one knew to tell me.~~ I'm glad it's just you're busy. I know you like your work a lot so that's good. A promotion would be fantastic, but I think you'd miss working with Nigel._

 _Gangrene is still gross. I'm glad you broke it and no, I don't think I want the details. It would put me off my dinner for sure._

 _Spring hols have started; just got home today actually. My team is very relieved. My mum insisted that I come home for a couple of weeks to relax, and then she and Dad left me here alone. It's very peaceful, and I have been flying all day. Your owl had to chase me a bit, I don't think he liked that. Tomorrow I'll sleep in a bit, and then maybe work on plays to teach the team when school starts up again. It's nice not to have all of Gryffindor surrounding me all the time, but I expect I'll be bored of the quiet by the time I can go back._

 _I know when you get this you'll be done with whatever you were doing instead of writing more to me, but be careful anyway. Your job isn't really very safe, is it? And I wouldn't know if something happened until Percy mentioned it or something. Anyway._

 _And I never get caught._

 _Oliver_

  
Bill's response was back in only three days. From the looks of his owl, which seemed quite put out (yet pleased to not have to chase Oliver again), he'd hardly given the poor bird any sort of rest before sending him back out again.

  
 _Oliver,_

 _Most boyfriends, from what I've been told, wouldn't be nearly as understanding as you are about certain things. Namely, my strange hobby of picking up school boys, but also my going to the clubs with Nigel. I haven't been going lately, though, but there's been a lot of reasons behind that, not the least of which is work. And you're right, my work isn't all that safe, but it's brilliant, challenging and fun, and I'm good at it. And, like I tell my mum, I'm always careful... not, mind you, that she knows I'm only as careful as I need to be and when it doesn't get in the way of my job. After all, if I don't do the work, someone else would, and they probably won't be as good at it as I am._

 _And you can stop worrying, Ollie. Nigel knows to let you know along with a few others if anything happens to me. He's my best mate, and that was actually his tent I had when I came to visit you last time. He says I'm out of my bleeding tree, but the thing about friends is that they love you even when you've gone mad, you know? Also, while he's on the subject, Nigel's been bothering me to ask you if you've got any friends to introduce him to. It's a long story, and it involves a lot of alcohol, but let's just say that Nigel's hacked off that I've got all the luck._

 _Anyhow, are you having plenty of wild parties with your parents gone? I hope so; I always had a cadre of tattle-tales to watch over, so I never actually got to enjoy being home alone. And are they gone the entire hols? Odd, that; bringing you home and then leaving you be, but then we Weasleys have always been a close bunch._

 _~Bill_

 _PS: I've enclosed something I found in the market the other day. It's got no special meanings or arcane magics behind it, but when I saw it, I was reminded of quidditch somehow, so I thought I'd send it on to you. I hope you like it, but even if you don't, that's fine too. It's just a bauble, regardless._

  
Oliver looked more closely at the stone pendant on its leather thong. He'd looped it over his wrist in his hurry to read Bill's letter and now took the time to study it. The carving was very well done, depicting a bird in flight in such detail that Oliver half expected it to race right off the edge of the stone circle. He smiled and rubbed his thumb over the image. Bill had sent him a present. Oliver loosed the knot so he could put it around his neck, tying it quickly and then trailing his fingers around the leather down to touch the stone again.

  
 _Bill,_

 _I do like the bird very much, I've been wearing it since the owl brought it. Thank you! I sometimes feel like a bird racing through the clouds when I fly. I'm free up there in ways I can't describe and have never felt anywhere else, except when you touch me._

 _Anyway._

 _Tell Nigel I said thank you for the use of his tent, it was brilliant. Which I suspect you've already told him, but tell him from me anyway. And somehow I don't think Angie's his type. What about your brothers? I'd like to hear the long story sometime. You are out of your tree, you know, but I don't mind at all._

 _I'm not really the wild party type. I haven't actually said anything out loud to anyone except your owl since Mum and Dad went. It's nice for the first few days but it's starting to bother me some. I'll have to just wait it out because yes, they're gone the entire hols and beyond, actually. Mum decides she wants to be somewhere and they go. Their cruise won't be done until after I go back to school so I'm just staying here. Not that I'd have gone anyway, I don't think. They like to go alone. I don't really mind. I'm glad they like to be together. They love each other very much._

 _I think you should be more careful than just as much as you need to be, and that I won't stop worrying quite yet. But thank you. I'm glad Nigel knows about us and would tell me. I like him._

 _Oliver_

~*~*~*~

It was three days before Bill could manage to put everything in enough order to dump all of their work in Nigel's lap, but knowing how he was going to spend the next week was well worth the smug grin and sly comments from his friend. Granted, Bill knew that after his impromptu holiday there would probably be another one of those uncomfortable conversations where he and Nigel pretended they weren't talking about how severely fucked Bill was, but as Bill walked up the path to the large country house not far from the English border, he reckoned it was worth it. Instead of knocking, Bill hefted his broom over his shoulder and ambled around to the back of the house, knowing that on a clear bright morning like this, Oliver would like as not already be out and flying.

As he came around the back of the house, Bill looked up, squinting in the sunlight, and saw a figure, dark against the blue sky and pulling off stunts that Bill knew they didn't teach at Hogwarts. Grinning at both Oliver's antics and at how surprised he was going to be, Bill set his bag on the ground, mounted up and took off, aiming for Oliver and knowing he didn't have a chance of actually catching him.

Oliver started a lazy spiral up, the circles interrupted by occasional loops and dives, working his way higher and higher in the sky. He laid himself flat in preparation for what would be a truly spectacular dive when he saw something from the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look and nearly fell off his broom. "Bill!" he said, face lighting up. He went ahead with his dive, changing trajectory and heading straight for Bill. "Bill!"

Bill laughed as Oliver made a beeline for him, and for a moment entertained the ridiculous image of Oliver flying directly into his arms. But logic prevailed and Bill just settled for looking at Oliver warmly; Bill wasn't the weakest flier, but he certainly wasn't anywhere near Oliver's league, and crashing the both of them would be a bad way to start their visit.

"Hello there, gorgeous!" he called, brushing his long hair out of his face. He'd tied it back, but the wind obviously had other plans.

Oliver managed, barely, to not fly directly into Bill but stopped instead right next to him. "Hi," he said lamely, fingers twitching until he reached out and tucked Bill's hair behind one ear. His fingertips trailed along Bill's cheek and over his lips. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Surprise?" Bill laughed, grinning as he turned to kiss Oliver's fingers. Eyes lingering on Oliver's mouth, Bill kissed his own fingers instead and pressed them against those tempting lips. "I just wanted to let you know I was here. You go on and enjoy your flight; I'm sure I've got a book in my bag to entertain me."

"Whatever," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. He caught Bill's hand and held it at his mouth, tongue flicking out over Bill's fingertips. "I've been flying for days, and can fly again later. I'm so glad you're here." He laughed. "I want to hug you, but I don't want to kill us."

Bill's eyes flashed when he felt Oliver's tongue. "Death would be inconvenient, yes," he said, almost absently. "Maybe we should land, then?"

Oliver nodded and reluctantly let go of Bill's hand, and then flashed a quick grin at Bill before dropping so quickly it was nearly a fall, Bill following at a much more sedate and controlled pace. Oliver was nearly dancing by the time Bill landed. As soon as he was off his broom, Oliver lunged at him, wrapping himself around Bill in a tight clinging hug. "I missed you," he whispered into Bill's hair. He closed his eyes and held on impossibly tighter. "Very much."

Arms snug about Oliver, Bill hugged back, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. "You too," he murmured, tension draining from him.

"Really?" Oliver whispered. He felt Bill relax against him and smiled into the crook of Bill's neck before making himself relax too, just enough to be able kiss his way along Bill's jaw toward his mouth. Bill was really here, _here_ , and Oliver felt as if it had been years instead of weeks since Valentine's.

Bill turned his head and kissed the tip of Oliver's nose. "What do you think?" he asked, and then slanted his mouth over Oliver's, tongue sliding into his mouth, tasting him slowly, lazily. God, but he loved the way the kid tasted. Hands drifting down, curving over Oliver's waist and bunching in his jumper, Bill held Oliver close, their bodies fitting together just _so_.

Oliver hummed softly into the kiss, an open mouthed sound of both pleasure and relief. His hands drifted down to squeeze Bill's arms and the leather creaked again. He smiled as the kiss ended, and Oliver rested his forehead against Bill's shoulder, content for the moment to just hold and be held. "How long can you stay?" he asked softly.

"A week," Bill said, resting his cheek against Oliver's hair. He felt nice, comfortable like this, and it took a lot more effort than he would have thought to shake off the lazy feeling that his armful of Oliver gave him. "Hopefully you'll let me get dressed this time," he added, grinning teasingly to cover up his pleasure at the idea of spending seven full days hiding away like this.

"Oh, wow," Oliver said, overwhelmed at the thought. _A week!_ "You're done with your bank stuff, then? And they'll let you stay?" He rubbed his nose against Bill's neck and sighed. "A week. Why would you want to get dressed?" Oliver grinned.

"Nigel can handle it," Bill said with a grin. "And I fully plan on getting dressed every time we leave your room, because there's no way I'm wandering nude about the halls of my teenaged lover's parents' house. Speaking of," he added quickly, "are you going to give me a tour, or just take me to bed so I can do delightfully depraved things to you?"

"So let's just not leave my room," Oliver laughed, pressing a series of quick kisses along Bill's jaw. He pecked Bill on the lips and then pulled away, grabbing Bill's hand and tugging him toward the house. "I'll give you a tour, if you want. But you have to promise to do depraved things to me after." He was nearly bouncing, he was so excited. Bill was here, for a _week_.

Bill followed Oliver inside, barely slowing to scoop up his bag as they passed. Once they were inside, shrouded in cool shadows and the silence of an empty house, Bill tugged back on Oliver's hand, pulling him close again.

"The tour can wait," he murmured, cupping the side of Oliver's face, tilting their heads, and fitting their mouths together in a long, deep kiss, groaning as Oliver's lips parted eagerly.

Oliver pressed close to Bill, kissing him back as though he were the last glass of water in the world and Oliver dying of thirst. He tasted so good, and Oliver had missed that so much, missed the way Bill felt against him. Long, slow, drugging kisses just for the sake of their mouths together, tongues tangling. "I could kiss you forever," Oliver breathed, and dived back in.

Laughing softly, Bill kissed him back again, then pulled away with one more, quick kiss. "I hope that's not all you plan on doing with me now, though," he said, smirking as he teased Oliver, trying to break the sweetness of the moment around them.

"Of course not," Oliver laughed. He threaded their fingers together as he toed off his trainers, leaving them in the mud room automatically. Tugging Bill behind him, Oliver made his way into the large comfortable kitchen. "I'm going to take you flying, too."

Bill laughed again as he followed Oliver, but it was a slightly hollow sound; he half-expected Oliver's mother to come around the corner and take him to task for wearing his boots in the house. He looked around, back over his shoulder, and shifted a bit as he leaned against a counter. "You're certain your parents are gone for the week?" he asked, feeling younger than Oliver for even having to _ask_ the question. "Things could get... awkward, you know."

"Mmhmm," Oliver said absently. He was rooting through a cupboard. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, but expected he'd know if he found it. He was hungry. "Mum said sorry for missing my, er, for making me make my own way back to school." What she'd actually said was _Happy birthday, darling! We're taking a cruise for your birthday but it lasts longer than hols, so you'll have to stay here_. She'd actually teared up, which still made Oliver smile thinking about it. He'd assured her it was fine, and convinced her he'd be seasick, even though she knew he'd never been on a boat in his life. And it really was fine. He hated making an issue of his birthday and had for years. And he'd rather fly than sail any day. "They're in Cyprus today, I think. Or did they get to Italy already?" He shrugged and moved to the icebox.

"Missing your what?" Bill asked, distracted momentarily from his own discomfort. Oliver even mildly evasive was always a sign that Bill was missing something good.

"My holiday," Oliver said, and leaned even further into the icebox. "Maybe we should pop out for take away, are you hungry?"

"We can do that later." Bill grabbed Oliver by the hips and pulled him backwards. "Have I ever mentioned that you're a bloody piss-poor liar, Ollie?"

"M'not lying!" Oliver said, even managing to sound indignant. Mostly. Oliver let Bill pull him back, settling himself comfortably against Bill's body. He threaded their fingers together again and wrapped their arms around his waist.

Bill shook his head, grinned and kissed the back of Oliver's neck. "Try again, Ollie. I still don't believe you. Missing your what?"

Oliver sighed heavily. "My birthday," he mumbled almost inaudibly, head bent to both obscure his words and so Bill could kiss him there again.

"Ha!" Bill crowed, and kissed down the curve of Oliver's neck. "So that makes you, what? Four now?"

"Shut it, you," Oliver said grumpily, managing to free his arm enough to shove his elbow back into Bill's stomach. Not hard, he didn't have the leverage or the motivation, but hard enough. "Are you turning 70 on your next birthday?"

Bill huffed in only slightly mock-indignance. "Twenty-four, actually," he sniffed, his long and clever fingers tickling along Oliver's sides for a moment. "And that's not even until November, thanks so very much."

Oliver laughed and jerked under Bill's fingers. "Stop that," he said, still laughing. "And I'll be seventeen. _Four_ ," he muttered in disgust, rolling his eyes. "I thought we agreed you aren't a paedophile."

"What can I say," Bill said with a grin, wrapping his arms around Oliver's waist, "I like them young." He nosed behind Oliver's ear, smelling grass and sweat and broom oil, and smiled at how familiar it was already. "You should shower if we're going to go out, even if it's just to pick up take-away. I could even get your back for you."

"If you get my back for me," Oliver said dryly, "we won't ever go out." He sighed and snuggled back into Bill's body, wrapping his arms over Bill's and holding them close. "I'm so glad you came," he murmured.

Humming softly, Bill kissed Oliver's neck once more before stepping back and breaking the warm spell around them. "Go on and shower by yourself," he said, swatting Oliver's backside playfully. "I'll just find your room by myself while I wait, and then we'll go get some food. _Then_ I'll fuck you blind."

Oliver turned and pressed himself chest to chest against Bill. "Okay," he said and kissed Bill again. He thought that maybe he'd rather skip lunch, but didn't say anything. Bill knew how much he liked sex. And they did need food. He grinned into the kiss. "You'll know it's my room 'cause you'll hear me in the shower."

"Mmmm..." Bill said, leering as he followed Oliver. "Naked and soaped up athlete. My favourite."

"No peeking," Oliver laughed at Bill over his shoulder as they left the kitchen. "No dessert until after you eat your food." Oliver led the way through a large, comfortable looking great room, muttering about the broom cleaning kit he'd left in front of the stone fireplace, and then took Bill through the foyer and up the wide staircase to the second floor. He turned right and began tugging his jumper off over his head as they walked along the balcony. "I'll be quick, I promise," he said, opening a door on their left.

His room was large, with clothes on the floor and a collection of toy brooms and Quidditch balls mounted on one wall. There were the remains of a broom forgotten in one corner. Oliver moved through the room heading for a door on the opposite side. Pausing in the doorway he said, "Make yourself comfortable, be right back," and disappeared, leaving the door open a crack behind him.

Grinning, Bill went to toss his bag in the corner, but stopped when he wasn't sure if it was, well, _safe_ to put his belongings on the floor. He hadn't exactly been concerned with hygiene at Oliver's age, himself. Granted, he'd had Charlie helping him with his efforts to breed new lifeforms... Deciding that the bed would be the least-offensive spot, Bill put his bag there, shrugged off his jacket, and leaned against the wall near the bathroom door. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, acutely aware that he didn't really belong here, that Oliver should be visited by a kid his own age that would sneak in while Mum and Dad were out of town.

But here he was, listening to Oliver in the shower and picturing him naked under the spray. It was a rather nice picture, and Bill felt arousal slowly coiling through his gut as he thought about how slick and smooth Oliver's skin was in the shower. With a shake of his head, Bill decided that he was tired of brooding. At least for now. Laughing at himself, he nudged open the door and called out into the steam-filled room, "Hurry up, Ollie! I'm hungry and randy, and it's not nice to deprive a growing boy."

"Done!" Oliver called. He'd probably missed several spots, but wasn't worried about that at all. Bill was here. He turned off the water and haphazardly wiped himself off with a towel before wrapping it around his waist and rubbing another one over his head. He hung that towel around his neck and went to Bill, unable to stay away. Grinning, he cupped Bill through his jeans and squeezed. "You _are_ growing, aren't you?" he laughed.

Bill covered Oliver's hand, pressing it closer with a leer. "What do you think?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows and hooking the fingers of his other hand around the towel and tugging.

"I think I may not get lunch today," Oliver said. He let Bill move him even closer, using his free hand to tug Bill's white t-shirt from the waist of his jeans. "Maybe you could fuck me blind first."

"Brilliant idea, that," Bill said, voice dropping as he tugged harder, pulling the towel from Oliver's hips and dropping it on the floor. "We can always eat later." Stepping closer, Bill slanted their mouths together and curved a hot, heavy hand over Oliver's damp hip, fingers squeezing rhythmically.

Oliver squeezed Bill again and then shoved his hand up under the t-shirt, moaning softly at the feel of warm skin under his palm. He fumbled with the flies of Bill's jeans and finally - _finally_ \- got the jeans open so he could shove his other hand down and cup Bill again without the barrier of fabric in the way. His fingers curled around the hot hard flesh they found and stroked. "Later," he agreed breathlessly and dove into another kiss, sucking Bill's tongue as it slid into his mouth.

Growling, Bill backed up, pulling Oliver with him. Oliver's sure grip about his cock, the way he was sucking Bill's tongue, it reminded Bill how long it had been since they'd done this, which was too bloody long. Two months. Bill groaned, one hand tight on Oliver's arse, the other cupping the back of his head. "Bed," he managed, tearing his mouth away only to kiss down Oliver's bare neck, lips sliding and tongue tasting the clean, warm water.

"Yes," Oliver whispered, head falling back and neck arching under Bill's mouth. Reluctantly letting go of Bill's cock, Oliver quickly tugged the towel from his neck, out of Bill's way, not ever wanting the press of lips and tongue to stop. He dropped it to the floor as they walked forward, hands coming to rest on Bill's hips to guide him as they moved toward his bed. "God, I missed you so much."

When they reached the bed Oliver dropped to his knees, his hands shoving Bill's jeans down just enough to free his cock. "Have I ever said how glad I am you don't wear pants?" Oliver asked with a grin, and then he leaned forward and sucked the head of Bill's cock into his mouth. His hands slowly slid the denim down Bill's legs as he bobbed his head, taking all of Bill all the way in before pulling back and doing it again and again with a moan.

Bill watched Oliver with hooded eyes, a low moan in his chest. His hands slid over Oliver's shoulders and up his neck, carding through the short, dark strands. "Ollie..." he breathed softly, voice praising. "That's it." He wanted to pull Oliver up onto the bed, wanted to feel the naked slide of their skin together, to hear all of those wonderful noises Oliver made. But more than that, Bill needed this just now; the steady bob of Oliver's head, the small pushes of Bill's hips to meet him closer. Bill moaned again, fingers tightening.

Oliver groaned, letting the sound reverberate through his throat and mouth and around Bill's cock. His hands crept back up to cup Bill's arse, squeezing, encouraging Bill to fuck his mouth. He loved this, loved the feel of Bill sliding over his tongue and into his throat, loved the way Bill tasted and always would. The thought made him smile. Pulling back, Oliver let Bill slip from his mouth and looked up into his face. "You're my favourite flavour," Oliver said softly, then took Bill into his mouth again.

"Glad to hear that," Bill said, laughing quietly. Oliver had discovered a real talent for sucking Bill's cock, and Bill moaned again, thrusting a bit harder between those soft lips, head falling back and eyes closing the rest of the way.

Another rough needy sound, and Oliver opened his mouth wider, relaxing his throat so Bill could thrust in harder. His hands rhythmically kneaded Bill's perfect arse and he bobbed his head faster. As much as he wanted Bill to fuck him, Oliver wanted Bill to come in his mouth even more. He let his fingers creep inward, seeking Bill's entrance, humming in triumph around the thick flesh in his mouth when he found the wrinkled hole.

Bill cried out, pushing harder into Oliver's mouth, his fingers clenching briefly; god, but he loved having his arse played with. "Fuck," he panted. " _Yes_." Bill tried to widen his stance, but his jeans about his ankles wouldn't let him move far, so he just settled for groaning needily. "That's it. Suck me, Ollie. Make me come."

Oliver pulled back so that only the round head was still in his mouth and sucked hard, one finger probing into Bill's body as he did. _Come_ , he thought fiercely as he sucked. He tugged with the tip of his finger against the ring of muscle guarding Bill's innermost flesh. _Let me taste you._

Arse clenching, fingers gripping tightly, Bill gave a long, ragged moan as he felt the need to come taking over. "It's... it's been too long, Ollie," he ground out, lost in the feel, in how amazing even a simple blow job was when it was someone who knew his body this well. The hair on his body prickled, and Bill shuddered, so close he could almost grasp it.

Leaving his finger just inside Bill, Oliver cupped Bill's testicles in his other hand. He let Bill slip from his mouth long enough to say, "I know," very quietly. It had been, far too long, and Oliver _needed_ this, needed the taste and feel of Bill shooting down his throat. "Come. I want to drink it all." Then he pressed his lips to the very tip and sucked delicately before opening his mouth around Bill's cock, taking him all the way in and then swallowing as he felt Bill hit the back of his throat.

That was it. Bill's toes curled, his hands flailed, grabbing at Oliver's shoulders, and every muscle in Bill's body spasmed swiftly. He came, shooting down Oliver's throat, and Bill could only twitch, giving Oliver what he -- what they both -- wanted, moaning with pure pleasure. He shuddered, gasping as he remembered to breathe again. "Fucking hell," he panted, body sagging in the aftermath.

Grinning, Oliver licked Bill clean and then kept licking, tongue moving over the softened length slowly before making his way up Bill's body, strong hands supporting Bill until Oliver was standing and could wrap his arms around him, leaning against Bill almost as much as he leaned against Oliver.

"I guess you won't be fucking me blind after all," Oliver murmured into Bill's shoulder, lips twitching. He was hard as a rock but felt almost removed from his own need, the taste of Bill's pleasure enough. For now. "The bed's right behind you, if you need a nap." Oliver had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snickering.

Bill snorted, albeit weakly. "Shut it, you," he grumbled, but grinned as he said it. "Besides, how'm I supposed to get you off if I'm asleep?" He kissed the side of Oliver's forehead and carefully untangled himself enough to pull his shirt off and to bend over to remove his jeans and boots. "Bed's right there if you want to get comfortable," he said, smirking up at Oliver.

Oliver's hands were coasting aimlessly over Bill's back, fingers tracing the curve of his spine while he was bent over. "I'm comfortable," he said mildly, but after bending himself to press a kiss to the centre of Bill's back, Oliver pulled away and climbed onto the bed. Settling himself on the pillows, Oliver put one hand behind his head and wrapped the other around his own cock, heavy eyes watching Bill move. God, he was gorgeous.

"You're so gorgeous," Bill said, echoing Oliver's thought as he knelt between Oliver's legs. He stilled Oliver's stroking hand briefly, bending to kiss the head of his cock. Then, with heavy, sated eyes focused on Oliver's face, Bill shimmied down, letting his feet hang over the edge of the bed, and hooked one of Oliver's legs over his shoulder. "I love to watch you touch yourself," he added, kissing slowly up the inside of Oliver's thigh.

Stretched out as best as he could manage on Oliver's bed, Bill cupped Oliver's arse and lifted him. He nuzzled at Oliver's balls, kissing softly, teasingly, working his way back to lick at the taut, sensitive patch of skin just behind. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmured. "Can't get enough." Then he worked his way ever further back, licking and pressing his tongue against Oliver's tight, puckered entrance, his hands kneading and pulling at that amazing arse.

"Bill," Oliver said, voice tight with need. He tugged his upper lip between his teeth, eyes so heavy now they were nearly shut. "So good." With a soft moan he let his fingers play lightly over his cock, the shaft so sensitive and hard he knew he'd come too soon with a heavier touch, and he wanted Bill's mouth on him a little while longer. His head rolled on the pillow and he gave in, letting his eyes close and his mouth open, breath and heart both moving faster. Need built faster too, the lack of sight intensifying the feel of Bill's tongue as it teased at his entrance.

Even though Oliver's shower had been quick, he was clean, and Bill hummed in pleasure as he pushed with his tongue, worming his way into Oliver's body. Bill's hands moved slowly over Oliver, up his sides, over his stomach, caressing and soothing while exciting and pushing Oliver higher at the same time. Pulling his tongue out, Bill traced the wrinkled flesh again before diving back in, wanting to drive Oliver out of his mind as thoroughly and as quickly as possible, wanting to make him come, to make him feel the same blinding pleasure Bill himself had just been given.

Oliver writhed under Bill's mouth and hands, finally firmly grasping his own cock and tugging. "It's so good," he moaned, "Bill, I can't - fuck. _Please_." It had been _so long_ , and making Bill come had felt so good, he'd tasted so good; Oliver was flashing to desperate need so fast he was dizzy. He grit his teeth and growled, not sure if he wanted to come and let the rush end yet, but quickly reaching the point where he didn't have a choice. "So close."

"It's okay," Bill said, lifting his head and kissing Oliver's balls, the skin tight with his impending orgasm. "I've got you, Ollie. Just let go." With one more kiss, Bill covered Oliver's hand with his own, pumping with him, and ducked down to push his tongue back into Oliver, fucking in and out with the strong, wet muscle. _Come for me_.

With a sharply indrawn breath Oliver came, clamping down hard on Bill's tongue, shooting spunk over his own chest and stomach and their hands. His body stiffened and shook and his free hand reached for Bill, needing an anchor as his world spun and exploded.

Bill caught Oliver's hand in a clumsy grip, his arm under one of Oliver's legs and stretching across his stomach, hand squeezing firmly even as he kept working Oliver through his orgasm. He licked and kissed his way up, back over Oliver's balls, kissing where their come-splattered hands met, still wrapped around Oliver's cock. Looking up, Bill couldn't help a small, almost soft smile as he took in the gorgeous, lost expression on Oliver's face. God, but this kid was _amazing_ when he came.

"Bill," Oliver sighed, breath still shuddering on each inhalation, shivers still moving through him. He hummed, a lazy sound of complete satisfaction, and then said, "God, that felt good." He squeezed Bill's hand. "It's never as good just doing it myself."

Laughing softly, Bill climbed up beside Oliver, curling close on the bed. "That's very true," he said, kissing the side of Oliver's hand and nipping at the first knuckle on his tanned index finger. "But it's still such a lovely picture in my head."

Oliver grinned and curled into Bill, tangling their legs. "I'm sure I won't stop," he murmured, "I have to do _something_ between your trips to Scotland." He leaned in to brush his lips lightly over Bill's. "Doesn't mean I wouldn't rather come with your help."

Bill shook his head and grinned ruefully, but didn't point out that Oliver didn't have to come on his own just because Bill wasn't around. He was too relaxed to row just now, and the last thing either of them wanted was to spend the week grumbling at each other. So he just laughed and kissed Oliver back, knowing he couldn't avoid it for good. Not if Oliver was ever going to understand. "Well, you know what they say," he murmured, nosing down Oliver's neck, letting his long, tangled hair tickle slightly. "Seven out of ten schoolboys prefer Weasley to wanking."

"Who says that?" Oliver laughed. "And which Weasley did those seven schoolboys try? I'm fairly sure I'm the only schoolboy you're fucking." Oliver tilted his head back, offering the length of his neck to Bill with an unconscious sound of pleasure.

"You shouldn't jump to conclusions," Bill admonished gently, still nosing up and down Oliver's neck. "Except you're right; you're my only barely-legal bed mate currently."

Oliver fought to maintain the casual grin. "I didn't say 'only bloke', just 'only schoolboy'; I'm not stupid." _Fuck_ , he thought tiredly. The idea of Bill fucking another man - an _older_ man - killed the last lingering buzz of pleasure that had still been thrumming through him. A yawn caught him by surprise and made him laugh in spite of everything. "Sorry," he said, still chuckling. "Are you still hungry?"

"I can wait, if you're too worn out." Bill laughed as he lifted his head, and kissed the tip of Oliver's nose with the lightest of touches.

With a shrug, Oliver tilted his head up to kiss Bill's chin. "I'll manage." He reached down and let his fingers trail over Bill's cock. "I guess the real question is, do you feel like getting dressed?"

"Not really," Bill admitted with a grin, tracing the leather thong around Oliver's neck and smiling softly as he brushed his fingers over the stone pendant. He'd put a location charm on the necklace so he could find Oliver's home, and Bill probably ought to mention that at some point. "I'm rather comfortable like this." He brushed Oliver's hand away, pulling him close and ignoring the sticky mess between them.

Oliver wound himself around Bill, grimacing a little as they squished together. He'd just showered, too. Grinning at the thought, Oliver nuzzled at Bill's neck. "Let's just wait until dinner, then, and we can go to a restaurant or something."

Bill hummed softly and kissed Oliver's hair. "Something," he agreed.

"So what'd they have you doing this time?" Oliver asked softly. He was interested but more just wanted to feel Bill's voice rumble through them both as they lay so close together. "I'm surprised they can spare you for the whole week but I'm so glad."

For a moment, Bill debated letting Oliver think, again, that this was only a side trip on a business trip. But it had been so long, and Bill was more than a bit drowsy, so he just shook his head and yawned. "I left all my work in Egypt," he said. "Took a few days' personal time and left Nigel to finish all the reports on the work we've been doing past few weeks." Strangely enough, the admission wasn't as difficult as he'd have thought it would be. He grinned crookedly. "Had something I needed to do on my own time."

Oliver froze in place for what felt like ages but could only have been seconds before he just literally melted from the inside out, body going boneless and relaxing fully into Bill. "You came to see me." It wasn't a question, and Oliver could _feel_ how stupid the grin splitting his face was. He buried his face in Bill's chest to hide it. Bill had come clear from Egypt just to be here, with him.

It had been as simple as an international portkey and a quick Apparation and nothing more to get here, but Bill could _feel_ how giddy Oliver was. Grinning, he gave Oliver a warm squeeze. "But if you've got plans for this week, I could probably pop by the London offices and have them put me to work."

" _No._ " Oliver pushed Bill flat onto his back and draped himself on top, pinning Bill to the bed and grinning down at him. "I'll tie you to the bed if I have to, but you aren't going anywhere near your offices. You're mine for the week."  
"Not even for a few hours?" Bill teased.

Oliver shook his head slowly and deliberately relaxed, settling his full weight on Bill. He smoothed his hands up Bill's ribs and then over his arms, guiding them to rest on either side of Bill's head, hands cuffing his wrists and pressing them into the mattress. "We have rope," Oliver said with a smirk, although he honestly had no idea whether they did or not.

"Now that sounds promising." Bill curled his fingers and lifted his head, kissing Oliver's nose and grinning. "But I have to tell you, Ollie, it's more of an incentive to misbehave than anything else."

Sliding his own hands up over Bill's, Oliver threaded their fingers together and leaned in to trail a line of kisses along Bill's jaw. "Not if I leave you tied up alone somewhere." Oliver paused, realising that would be punishing himself as well, and then grinned and bit Bill's earlobe. "Except I refuse to do without sex now you're here, so never mind that. Speaking of..." Oliver let his voice trail off deliberately and then rubbed himself against Bill's stomach. "If you want food or a nap first, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Bill laughed and squirmed under Oliver. "Have you got something in mind, then?" he asked, grinning. "I thought you were hungry."

"I'm a growing boy," Oliver smirked, "I'm always hungry." Raising his eyebrow, Oliver let the smirk widen. "Although I did quite recently have a protein fix."

"That you did," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "Well, let me go, and we'll get cleaned up and fed. Then we can see about the rest of your appetites."

Oliver grinned quickly. "'Kay," he murmured, bending down to press his lips to Bill's in a quick kiss before squeezing Bill's hands and then letting them go. Reluctantly, he slid off, immediately missing the touch of Bill's skin.

Bill stood and pulled Oliver back into his arms, missing the warm press of that strong body against his. "Come on," he breathed, kissing Oliver's temple and then his nose before leading them into the bathroom. Fingers of one hand laced with Oliver's, Bill tugged his young lover into the shower and turned on the water before slowly setting to washing them both off, his hands steady with the flannel.

"Mmm." Oliver rested his forehead on Bill's shoulder and closed his eyes, content for the moment to simply stand and let Bill wash him. He let his own hands rest lightly on Bill's hips, thumbs absently stroking just inside the curve of bone. "Feels good."

"Glad you like it," Bill murmured. He felt lazy, relaxed, and Bill was fairly sure there was more in his eyes than there ought to be as he pulled back enough to kiss Oliver while reaching over to turn off the spray. "Let's get something to eat, pet."

Oliver sighed and slid his hands up from Bill's hips, coasting over his ribs and then up, curling them over strong shoulders. He squeezed lightly, moved them again to cup the back of Bill's neck. "Kiss me again," he whispered, lifting his face to Bill's, heart in his eyes. "Please."

Overwhelmed and not really willing to accept those feelings in Oliver's gaze, Bill just kissed him once, a soft brush of lips. Then he stepped away, summoning up a crooked grin. "If we keep at that, we'll never get any food, you know," he said.

"I know." Oliver sighed and turned away, stepping out of the shower and reaching for a towel. He cleared his throat and forced his disappointment and hurt down deep, managing a credible smile. "Where would you like to go to eat?"


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Oliver had finally managed the tour of the house (after convincing the house elves that they truly wanted to be left completely alone for the week), and they'd decided to camp out in one of the guest rooms. The one with the truly massive bed. Oliver grinned wickedly as he remembered how they'd used nearly every bit of that huge expanse that night. He intended to use it again, just as soon as they'd finished the ice cream he was currently carrying into the room. He had a large bowl in both hands and still nearly dropped it as he saw Bill sprawled out in the bed, waiting for him. _So beautiful,_ he thought, _breath catching in his throat. And all mine. At least for now._

Bill stretched and grinned up at Oliver, the afternoon sunlight making Bill's bare and freckled body glow with pink health. "Strawberry?" he asked hopefully, propping himself up against the headboard and taking the opportunity to admire all of the naked athlete before him.

Oliver grinned and nodded. "Strawberry," he said, and handed the bowl to Bill before climbing up onto the bed and straddling Bill's legs. He settled himself on those freckled thighs and took the bowl back, then with a smirk at Bill, Oliver took a mouthful of the rich ice cream with the only spoon he'd brought, eyes closing with pleasure as the flavour exploded on his tongue. "Mmmm," he moaned.

"Good, is it?" Bill asked wryly, scooping some out of the bowl with two fingers. He hissed when cold ice cream landed on his chest, but moaned in pure enjoyment once he got a taste. "Oh, it _is_ ," he said, smirking and arching one eyebrow in challenge.

"Did you want some too?" Oliver managed to sound innocently inquiring, but his attention was caught by pink ice cream sliding over freckled skin. He licked his lips, moved the bowl out of his way, and bent to lick Bill's chest clean.

"You'd best believe it," Bill said, running his fingers down Oliver's arm, reaching for the bowl. "You can't bring my favourite ice cream in here and not share. It's the sugary version of being a cock tease. A stomach tease, even."

Done with the small bit on Bill's chest, Oliver straightened again and moved the bowl out of Bill's reach. "Hunh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "No touching." Oliver cocked an eyebrow and smiled slowly. "I'll share, but you have to keep your hands to yourself."

Bill cocked his head, and then let a slow, knowing grin spread across his face. "That's fair enough," he drawled, relaxing back against the headboard and taking the time to cushion himself with a couple of pillows. He fluttered his lashes and rested his hands innocently over Oliver's narrow hips. "Besides, we know I can get what I want using much more creative methods than just my hands."

Oliver thought to himself that he'd give Bill anything he wanted at all, no creativity required, for just an indication of how Bill really felt. He sighed and shoved the thought away. "And you certainly are creative," Oliver finally murmured. He smiled and filled the spoon, then lifted it to Bill's mouth.

"Oh, why thank you," Bill said, sliding his tongue under the spoon. He leaned forward and slowly took the spoon into his mouth, easing the sweet strawberry treat free. Eyes closed, Bill leaned back, smiling happily as the ice cream melted on his tongue. "Mmm... even better when I'm being spoon-fed by a naked, gorgeous bloke."

"Are you spoon-fed by naked blokes often?" Oliver asked and then filled his own mouth, suddenly not sure he really wanted to know. He hummed softly; the ice cream really was delicious, so he took another bite. The next spoonful went to Bill's mouth again.

Gladly accepting it, Bill brushed his thumbs back and forth over Oliver's smooth skin as he swallowed. "They say there's a first time for everything," he said, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss.

Oliver grinned, relieved even as he realised that wasn't necessarily an answer. "Apparently you're destined to be my first at a lot of things," he said, then he put more ice cream in his own mouth and leaned over the bowl to share it with Bill. He pressed his mouth to Bill's, cream-covered tongue sliding between his lips.

Bill sucked on Oliver's tongue, a gentle pull into his own mouth as he groaned playfully. "New fetish, Ollie?" he asked, nipping at Oliver's lips. Tilting his head, Bill kissed Oliver again. "I think I could like it."

"Let me know when you decide," Oliver said with a laugh and fed Bill again, from the spoon this time.

"Will do," Bill promised, laughter dancing in his eyes as he played along, chasing after the spoon with his mouth, stealing kisses, licking their lips clean. But he behaved, and kept his hands right where they were. Out of trouble, if only for now.

They ate nearly all the bowl that way, and as the ice cream started to melt and there really wasn't much left, Oliver "accidentally" spilled a spoonful on its way to Bill's mouth. "Oops," he said unrepentantly, and bent with a wicked grin to lap it up.

Fingers tensing, Bill grunted at the cold splash on his skin, and fairly purred at the rasp of Oliver's tongue. "At least you're neat in the areas that count," he said, voice teasing, but still pitched a bit lower than usual. Being naked and this close to Oliver for so long was beginning to have the predictable effect, and Bill was getting turned on. "Say, Ollie... think I can use my hands yet?"

"Almost," Oliver said roughly. He scooted back, scooped the last of the more solid ice cream onto the spoon and filled his mouth, then bent and took Bill's cock into his mouth, letting the ice cream slide out of his mouth and down Bill's shaft.

Bill gasped in surprise, back arching. "Fuck," he moaned, cock getting harder as soon as he even partly recovered from the shock. Cold lips, cold tongue, hot mouth... it all wrapped around him, and Bill couldn't tell one sensation from another; so fast and so sudden, he could only lay back and enjoy. "Fuck, Ollie, but I love your... love your ideas."

Oliver sucked harder, feeling incredibly smug at the sound of Bill's voice and the pleasure in it. He set the bowl to the side carelessly so he could put both hands on Bill's hips as he sucked him down, head bobbing steadily, tongue moving to catch the ice cream as best it could. His fingers squeezed the curve of hips and he pulled back, off Bill's cock, so he could lick at the long shaft, tease ginger curls with his tongue, kissing and caressing and cleaning the last bit of strawberry away.

Satisfied it was gone, Oliver reached for the bowl and tipped it over Bill's stomach, letting the melted ice cream drip over it and into Bill's navel. "Sometimes I can be creative too," he rasped, and set the bowl down again before bending to slowly lick up the mess.

"Okay," Bill groaned. "I like your fetish." He brushed his fingers through Oliver's short hair, down along his neck and then curved his freckled hand over Oliver's strong, solid shoulder. No one had ever tried anything quite like this with him before, and Bill was amazed that he'd been missing out. And more than a little impressed that Oliver managed to figure it on his own. "I like it a lot."

Oliver raised his head just long enough to flash a quick grin up at Bill before bending to dart his tongue into the small pool of strawberry that had gathered in Bill's navel. "Good," he murmured, "then we can do it again." And then he began to fuck the small hole with his tongue, pushing it in long after the ice cream was gone. His hands moved up to cover Bill's ribs as he reluctantly left that spot and let his tongue slide up the centre of Bill's body.

Bill shifted slowly, body curving and hands sliding along Oliver's back. "And again," he breathed, eyes half-closed, mouth quirked in a lazy smile. He hummed, a low rumbling sound as Oliver licked up his chest. "You know," Bill added, almost conversationally, "you've got me in a good mood, Ollie. Favourite ice cream and all." Long, freckled fingers traced random patterns over Oliver's strong shoulders. "You could probably have just about anything you wanted about now."

 _Tell me you love me._ Oliver pressed his open mouth to Bill's chest as the words nearly flew off his tongue. He knew Bill wasn't ready, knew that the first time he said love would be the last time he ever saw Bill again so instead he buried his face against warm freckled skin and just shook his head. "Just you," he managed roughly, and cleared his throat. "I just want you."

"Then have me," Bill said, deliberately ignoring the emotion in Oliver's voice. It would sort itself out in the end, Bill hoped. And at the very least, Oliver would be able to avoid at least that much of a broken heart so long as Bill didn't have to explain to him that love was just a fantasy. "Just kiss me while you do it?"

"I am kissing you," Oliver said. He kissed Bill's chest rather obviously, forcing his longing back into the corner of his heart where it lived and summoning up an innocent smile for Bill.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. How silly of me," he said. "Well, then I reckon I'm yours to do with as you please, then aren't I?"

Laughing softly up at Bill before nosing his way to Bill's ear, Oliver nipped at the soft flesh of Bill's earlobe and whispered, "Fuck me." He dipped his tongue into Bill's ear and then said it again. "Fuck me."

"Gladly." Bill's voice was a bit rougher than before, razor-sharp desire racing through him at those two words. He cupped the back of Oliver's head in one hand, pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss, tongue sliding into Oliver's mouth. At the same time, Bill reached down, fingers pushing between Oliver's perfect arse cheeks, teasing him. "Ride me, Ollie," he growled between kisses. "Ride my cock."

"Gladly," Oliver moaned, teasing Bill with the word but meaning it sincerely all the same. He braced his knees on either side of Bill, legs pressed to his hips. "Need... god. Lube. Something." The words were panted between nipping kisses, need knifing into Oliver's groin and heart and making him dizzy with the rush of blood from his brain. Cupping Bill's head in both hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin just in front of Bill's ears, Oliver deepened the next kiss, trying to slow them down, trying not to get lost to the pleasure so quickly this time. He was afraid it might already be too late.

Bill caught Oliver's lower lip between his sharp teeth, worrying it slowly as he stretched an arm out, grabbing the lube off the bedside table. Not wasting time, not when Oliver was nearly trembling already, Bill slicked up his fingers and pressed them against Oliver's tight entrance. He'd never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Oliver, not after being with them even just a handful of times; but Oliver was somehow different, and as Bill grit his teeth and pushed his fingers in, he could admit that much to himself. If not to Oliver, at any rate.

Oliver cried out softly and pushed back on Bill's fingers. He never got tired of having some part of Bill inside him, never quite got used to the thrill of that initial stretch. God, it just felt so bloody "Good. Oh, god, yes." Oliver buried his face in the crook of Bill's neck. "Bill." He gave a low moan and squeezed Bill's fingers inside him. "I want your cock."

"Want you, too," Bill murmured, pressing as deeply as he could reach. God, did he ever; Bill wanted Oliver more with each moan, each flutter around his fingers. Bill didn't want to wait any more, not really, but he would, so long as Oliver wanted it. Or at least as long as he could handle it. "So much, Ollie. So much."

"Fuck me," Oliver begged, and licked a thick stripe up Bill's throat, then nuzzled behind his ear. Tightening his grip on Bill, Oliver lifted himself up so he could push back on those exploring fingers again. "Take me, please, I'm yours, I need you."

Groaning, Bill bit Oliver's shoulder where it curved up to his neck. "Tell me it's enough," he begged, and then sucked hard on a thick cord of muscle, twisting his long fingers. It wasn't really enough, Bill knew; he knew Oliver's gorgeous body from head to toe by now, but if Oliver said so...

It wasn't enough, not quite, but Oliver was once again desperate to have Bill inside, to have him freely and completely in the only way Bill would allow. "It's enough," Oliver groaned as his head fell back and he worked himself on Bill's fingers. "Please, Bill." His head felt so heavy, but Oliver forced it forward again so he could murmur in Bill's ear, "Put your cock in me."

Hand almost shaking, Bill pulled his fingers free and quickly stroked himself. "C'mon and let me in, pet," he moaned, holding his cock in place, so close he couldn't stand it. "Ride me, Ollie. Love it when you do..."

"Bill," Oliver said, voice almost a whine and breath catching in this throat as he sat, pushing down to take Bill in. His body resisted at first and then suddenly it gave, relaxing, and Bill slid fully inside. " _God,_ " Oliver gasped, face pressed tight to Bill's neck. It hurt, and felt so good, and he was finally somehow complete. _I love you. I love you._ Oliver bit his lip and let only the wordless moans escape.

After several endless seconds Oliver started to move, legs tensing to lift himself off Bill's cock, relaxing to take him in again, slowly but steadily riding the way Bill had taught him. His hips made small circles as he moved, increasing the intense pleasure that ripped through him each time Bill slid fully home.

There was nothing much more that Bill could do but moan and lift up into each of Oliver's slow movements, chasing that tight feeling, so he did. Head tilted back and pressed against the headboard, Bill kept his eyes open, just enough to watch Oliver move. "So gorgeous," he groaned, sliding one hand down Oliver's back, rubbing his tense thighs. "So good." His voice was rough, almost a growl as he went on. "Kiss me, Ollie. Want... want to taste you."

Oliver murmured in agreement and kissed his way up Bill's neck and along his jaw until their lips met and clung. Oliver's steady pace slowed even further as he slid his tongue over Bill's bottom lip and then into his mouth. There was still the faintest trace of strawberry there, and Oliver smiled against Bill's mouth.

Whimpering, Bill sucked on Oliver's tongue. His hands were tight on Oliver's hips, and Bill could feel the play of strong muscles under smooth skin as Oliver moved so bloody slowly over him. "Oliver," Bill panted, and then bit his own lip before closing back in for another kiss. " _Oliver_..."

"Bill," Oliver whispered back, " _Bill._ " Oliver moaned into Bill's mouth, sharing kiss after long, thorough kiss as he moved slowly, riding Bill's cock as if they had all the time in the world to stay just like this. He felt suspended in the pleasure but more than that, Oliver felt so _much_ love for the man under him, in him. It overflowed his heart, filling him up and tightening his throat, and his eyes stung. He wanted desperately to tell Bill how he felt but held it back with tremendous effort. "Oh, god."

A warm feeling, deeper in Bill's bones than the mind-blowing perfection of how good Oliver felt, spread through Bill. His chest seemed to expand with it, and Bill finally accepted just how fucked he really was, and in a way that had nothing to do with the strangled noises coming from Oliver right now. But now wasn't the time to deal with it, so Bill tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to shove it all away and get lost in the feeling of the moment.

"Harder," he groaned, leaning back against the headboard and unable to take his eyes off Oliver's face. "Please, Ollie. _Faster_."

Oliver braced himself so he could do as Bill asked. He began moving faster, his arms resting on Bill's shoulders as he lifted himself up, dropped onto Bill harder, groaning as the pleasure spiked and he moved faster and it spiked again and he cried out. "Fuck," Oliver groaned, only realising his eyes were closed as he forced them open again to look at Bill.

"Bill?" His eyes were so... Oliver didn't know, couldn't breathe as he saw a wealth of feeling there in Bill's eyes, more than he'd hoped to ever see. All of that emotion - Oliver didn't dare call it love, not yet - shoved Oliver up into a whole new level of pleasure, and he couldn't maintain any sort of rhythm any more. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open and on Bill's as he began almost bouncing on Bill's lap, body reaching for the explosion that was almost almost there.

"I've got you," Bill gasped, thrusting up and meeting Oliver as best as he could, over and over again. He cupped the back of Oliver's neck, fingers solid and strong and keeping Oliver on earth while he reached between them and wrapped his long fingers around Oliver's cock, tugging. "Got you, Ollie. Got you." Bill's eyes wanted to close, but he wouldn't let them; closing his eyes would mean he wouldn't be able to watch Oliver any more, wouldn't be able to see him as moved and groaned and looked so amazing, so... "So gorgeous," he finished out loud, and moaned, back arching. "God, so fucking _close_."

"I know." Oliver was, too, so close he was nearly in tears, knowing how bloody fantastic it would be when they came. Oliver moved just that little bit faster and gasped. His eyes widened and went blind as climax slammed through him, sending his body into hard spasms as he flew, Bill's name on his lips.

Bill didn't even try and hold back and last even a second longer when Oliver came. Instead, he just surrendered to it, to Oliver, and came as well, thrusting up into Oliver once more, his cock grasped and squeezed almost painfully, heartbeat roaring in his ears, and any words, even Oliver's name, completely beyond him as Bill's mouth hung open and he curled closer, his forehead pressed to Oliver's shoulder and strangled whimpers barely escaping him.

Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around Bill's shoulders, cheek pressed hard to Bill's ear as they shook with slowly receding tremors. He had no idea how long he held Bill like that before he could hear again, breathe without panting again, and even after the aftershocks stopped and he could feel that Bill's heartbeat had slowed with his own he still held on, reveling in the way it felt to be wrapped around Bill, knowing now without doubt that Bill loved him.

With a sigh of residual pleasure, Oliver let a truly smug smile curve his lips. He stroked Bill's hair and lightly kissed his ear. "Wow," he finally murmured, still grinning.

"And _how_ ," Bill laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Oliver's waist and stroking his back with his clean hand. He swallowed and took a deep breath, gathering the wide-open parts of his heart and putting them back together. Maybe he'd bring them back out again later, but if Bill had his way, it would be not ever. This had disaster written all over it, but now Bill knew he'd never be able to walk away unless Oliver told him to go. Not now.

Bill coughed once, quietly, and kissed the salty skin of Oliver's neck. "Bloody hell, but you're fucking good at that, Ollie," he managed, grinning as best as he could even though it didn't reach his eyes.

Oliver nuzzled at Bill's neck, still feeling almost unbearably smug. "I had a fantastic teacher," he laughed, and then he left a trail of enthusiastic kisses along Bill's jaw and on his lips. "I feel like flying," he said. He was suddenly filled with energy, everything right and complete with his world. "Do you want to go flying? Or we could have more ice cream." Oliver laughed again and buried his face in Bill's throat, squeezing Bill in a sudden hug.

Laughing at Oliver's enthusiasm, Bill hugged him back, if not as tightly. "I could get dressed and go flying if you wanted," he said, kissing the tip of Oliver's nose. In a way, he needed to leave this room, this bed; he needed to get some distance from the emotions thick around them. "Fresh air is good now and then. Especially for growing boys with quidditch obsessions, I've been told."

Oliver laughed back and pressed a fast kiss to Bill's lips. "Wicked," he said, and hugged Bill again, just because he could. "I'm going to run shower in my room so you can shower here and I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes." Oliver very nearly told Bill then, nearly let the words that filled his soul spill from his lips but... something held him back. _I love you so much._ Instead he nuzzled Bill's neck and kissed behind his ear and then pulled away, nearly bouncing out of the bed. "Hurry!" he called over his shoulder as he almost ran out of the room, body thrumming with energy and excitement. It was better this way, he thought. He wanted the first time he told Bill how he felt to be perfect, and somehow sweaty and smelling of sex didn't seem quite dignified enough.

For several long moments, Bill didn't move from the bed. He just stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly and trying not to think. It was obvious that Oliver had seen something, had noticed a change, and if Bill didn't do something soon, things were going to be completely out of his control. He was going to break Oliver's heart much worse than he would have if he'd just told Oliver to piss off all those months ago and never seen him again. Which was what he really ought to have done in the first place. A man his age had no business being with a boy Oliver's age, and there really wasn't much wiggle room in that. Bill knew it, had known it from the very beginning, just like he knew he had no right to let Oliver tie himself down like this without having any life experience to help him make a real decision.

"Fucking hell," Bill sighed, and rolled off the bed. He walked across the room slowly, feeling about a million years old as he turned on the shower and leant against the wall. This was his fault, his mess. And he'd just gone and made it worse.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Oliver hadn't been able to wait for Bill; he was already in the air and looping, spinning, diving by the time he noticed Bill strolling out the back door. "Hi!" he yelled down, waving enthusiastically before diving again, headed for Bill, pulling up just short of running into him and climbing in a spiral above his head. "Hi," Oliver said again, laughing still.

"Hi yourself," Bill said, grinning fondly up into the afternoon light. He had his broom over his shoulder, but Bill just stood there for a bit, watching Oliver fly. He was like a bird, swooping and diving as though he were following secret air currents through the sky. Still smiling, even though it didn't quite reach his shadowed eyes, Bill mounted his broom and took off, shooting up as fast as he dared. He was a fair flier, but next to Oliver, Bill felt almost clumsy in the air, and he laughed at himself as he pulled a wide loop, enjoying the pull of gravity and the rush of wind.

Still grinning, Oliver flew around Bill as he looped. "Your hair'll get tangled," he said absently, attention caught by the long red strands blowing in the wind generated by their flight. So distracted was he that Oliver nearly ran into a tree, pulling up at the last minute. He kept going, climbing faster and faster, embarrassed by his near-disaster. He _didn't_ crash. Ever.

Bill had been too busy brooding to remember to tie his hair back, and he could have kicked himself for being so distracted, not that it would do much good now. But instead, he just shrugged and played it cool. "I'll live," he called out, and then banked left, turning a wide arc and letting the wind have its wicked way with his hair. At the very least, Bill was fairly sure he remembered a decent detangling spell.

Oliver finally straightened, then slowed, then stopped altogether, hovering dozens of feet above Bill to watch. He wasn't bad; Oliver could tell it'd been awhile since Bill had flown for pleasure, but it was certainly one of those things a bloke never forgot. A stupid smile fought its way onto Oliver's face, and he lay on his broom and just kept watching. Bill's hair was like flame floating around his head, his body was lean and graceful and suddenly Oliver could _feel_ the muscles under his itching fingers. "I love you," he murmured, finally letting the words out too far away for Bill to hear. "I want to live with you forever."

As though he could hear anyway, Bill looked up at Oliver and waved just then, and angled his broom up to head up in a slow spiral. He was relaxing into the rhythm of flight again, and by the time he was close enough to tease Oliver about looking so comfortable, Bill found himself just grinning and saying, "I haven't flown like this since I was a kid!"

"I know," Oliver said, intending to smirk but unable to shake the soft edges from his expression. His smile widened. "It's fantastic, isn't it?" Finally sitting up, Oliver pulled next to Bill and reached out, fingertips skimming Bill's face at his hairline, moving down from temple to jaw and then falling away.

Feeling odd, but still unable to stop the words, Bill went on. "Bloke I dated in school used to take me flying," he said, and dimly wondered if maybe this was his subconscious' way of dealing with the new situation and the softness in Oliver's eyes. "We used to go all around the school, and then sneak under the stands to fool around."

Oliver's smile slipped just a bit even as he berated himself for being jealous of the past. It was over, and Bill was _his_ now. "I wish I'd known you then," he said, and then grinned suddenly. "But only if I were as old as I am now." Oliver reached out again, this time resting his hand on Bill's on the broom. "I'd like to fool around under the stands with you."

"Considering that back then you hadn't even started puberty yet, I'd say so." Bill stuck his tongue out at Oliver. "I was fourteen, fifteen. That winter, I learned to do loops and that even teen-aged lust can't make those stands warm in February."

Even knowing it was dangerous, Oliver couldn't stop himself leaning forward for a kiss, hand tightening on Bill's hand on the broom as his tongue chased after Bill's. He laughed softly into the kiss and murmured, "No, nothing makes outdoor Scotland warm in February." His tone was fond; he loved everything about Scotland, even the frigid cold. With a sigh, Oliver rested his forehead against Bill's. Soon, he thought. Maybe now, even. It felt right. Oliver pulled back just enough to meet Bill's eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself to say the most important three words he ever would.

"Oh, I learned that lesson well enough," Bill said with a half smile that didn't really reach his eyes. "He taught me a lot of things, some not nearly as fun as where to go for a spot of privacy in school." He had been so sure that he was in love back then. That they belonged together, that the other boy had loved him back. And that had been the hardest lesson to learn, in the end; that the sort of love Bill had so childishly imagined was nothing more than a foolish fantasy. Bill sighed and brought his mind back to the now, and looked into Oliver's eyes, seeing that same daydream glittering hopefully, and Bill's heart broke more than a little for what he was about to do. "But at least I learned the truth of what people call love."

 _What people call love?_ Oliver frowned slightly. That sounded wrong, somehow, and he felt the first small trickles of unease. This wasn't going the way he'd wanted. He'd been going to tell Bill 'I love you' and then Bill would smile that one smile that melted Oliver clear down to his toes and they would fly off into the sunset together. His lips twitched in involuntary amusement. Well, okay, maybe no sunset, but still...

The momentary amusement was gone and the unease back, stronger than before. "Er," Oliver said cautiously, "what truth is that?"

"That all the pretty names in the world can't make up for the fact that it's nothing more than foolish dreams wrapped around lust," Bill said firmly. He wanted to be gentle about it, but more than that, he needed Oliver to understand _now_ before things got worse. Sitting back, Bill managed a wry grin that faded almost at once and sighed, reaching out to brush his fingers over Oliver's cheek. "You'll see what I mean, more and more when you get older and date other blokes."

Oliver couldn't breathe. It was as if Bill's words had sucked all the oxygen out of the air around them, or else had sucker punched him. _Date other blokes? Foolish dreams?_ "Oh," Oliver whispered. It was all he could manage. _But I love you!_ his brain screamed wildly. "Okay." The word sounded as painful as it had felt, at least to himself. "Okay, sure." Oliver backed away slowly, unconsciously, eyes fixed on Bill's face. _I love you._

Eyes stinging and throat tight, Oliver pulled up sharply on his broom and fled, climbing higher and higher, faster and faster, needing to get as far away from Bill as he could, just for a little while.

Unable to face the hurt he'd caused for another minute more, Bill closed his eyes and tried to ignore the nausea rolling through him. His stomach was in tight knots as he sighed and tilted his head back, watching Oliver run away from him. At that moment, Bill hated himself completely for being seven kinds of a selfish fucker for not walking away while he still could, for being the one to teach Oliver this one horrible fact of sex and dating. And he needed to get away before he retched up the ice cream from earlier, the inherent sense of _wrongness_ to the entire situation beating him about the head and shoulders. So Bill just turned away and landed, walking into the house without another word.

 _I should probably pack and be ready to go,_ Bill thought as he made his slow way up to the spare room he'd claimed so he wouldn't be faced with the remnants of Oliver's recent childhood each time he looked around. _There's no way he'll want anything to do with me now that I've gone and done that. But at least I did it before he could say anything he'd regret later..._


	3. Crash and Burn, part 3

Oliver flew. He had no idea how long or far, and didn't care. He didn't do any of the tricks he normally had to consciously avoid at school, the kinds of things that came as naturally to him as breathing. Instead he screamed up and out and _away_ until he couldn't breathe because the air was too thin instead of because his lungs had seized and he was shaking with cold instead of the threat of tears.

He finally saw the ocean and stopped short, stunned out of his turmoil by the realisation of how far he was from home. "Damn," Oliver said softly, wryly. He kept going, albeit more slowly and more aware of his surroundings, until he landed on the rocky shore with a wince. He'd been curled over his broom for a long time and his muscles were protesting. After walking out the kinks, Oliver climbed up onto a large rock and stared out at the waves rolling in.

It was warmer now that he wasn't flying, although not by much. Oliver didn't really notice. He sat there and stared blindly until the tears finally came. Oliver brought his feet up, wrapped his arms around his bent knees, and cried. At first he cried for himself, because _god_ he hurt. He didn't understand why Bill kept insisting love wasn't real, why he refused to admit his own feelings when Oliver had seen them plain as day on his face. Then he cried for Bill, and wanted to find that stupid kid who'd hurt Bill this badly and kill him.

Eventually the tears dried up, and Oliver sighed and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He just felt _tired_ and empty now, but underneath it all he loved Bill. Oliver laughed shortly, without amusement. "I still love you," he said out loud, defiantly. "Foolish dream or no, I love you."

He jumped when a bird squawked at him, startled at his sudden near-shout as he was now startled by it. It made him laugh again, this time truly laugh, and he apologised to the bird as it squawked again angrily and flew away. Good humour at least partially restored, Oliver stood and walked out the kinks again, arse completely frozen and legs stiff from sitting so still for so long. It was nearly dark, and wicked cold, and Oliver realised he'd been shivering for awhile. And that he didn't know how to get home or how long it would take to fly there.

Taking firm hold of his precious Nimbus - Bill _loved_ him, dammit - Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and Apparated home.

Bill jumped at the crack of someone Apparating in the room, and looked up from the book he hadn't actually been reading. Relief spread through him to see Oliver back at last, even if it did mean that he was going to be tossed out now, because at least Oliver was safe. Bill's bag was packed and waiting beside the fireplace on the other side of the room, and Bill uncrossed his ankle from over his knee and stood, smoothing his t-shirt and expression.

"You're back." He didn't try to pretend that he didn't know why Oliver had run, but at the same time, Bill knew if they had to voice it, then that really would be it for whatever this fucked up situation was. "Safe and sound, even."

Oliver's eyes flew open as he was startled again. He'd thought Bill would have gone to bed, or something. He looked at Bill, hard, deciding in that split second of time that love meant he was in for the long haul. If he really loved Bill, Oliver had to take the whole package, not just the sex and the parts that didn't hurt.

"Hi." Oliver gave Bill a tired smile, one that crumbled a bit around the edges, and walked toward him. He slid his arms loosely around Bill's waist and rested his head on Bill's chest and closed his eyes again. "Sorry about that."

"Shhh..." Bill said, letting himself hug back briefly. That was about when he realised that Oliver was shivering in his arms, the cold seeping through Bill's clothes and raising goose-flesh on Bill's warm skin. "Didn't your mum teach you to come in out of the cold?" he asked softly, apparating them upstairs, directly into Oliver's bedroom. "Come along, pet; let's get you warmed up."

It took some pushing, but Bill managed to get Oliver to sit on his bed, and wrapped a magically warmed blanket around his shoulders. Oliver's lips had gone a touch blue and Bill shook his head, half-aware he was likely clucking just like his mum would when he and Charlie would pull some particularly daft stunt. "Do you feel better now, at least?"

Oliver shrugged and tugged the blanket more tightly around himself. "We aren't sleeping in here," he said lamely. "Are we? My bed's not really big enough for the both of us."

Bill paused. "I didn't think I'd be sleeping anywhere here now," he said quietly, fingers brushing the side of Oliver's face.

Leaning his face into Bill's hand, Oliver closed his eyes and slumped. "You said you had a week," he whispered, voice quiet and somehow lost. "Don't go yet."

"Alright," Bill breathed back. He pulled Oliver up and into his arms, and took a chance to kiss the still-cold tip of his nose. "Not yet."

Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around Bill and buried his face in the crook of Bill's neck. "Let's just go to bed, please?" He felt weak with relief; he thought it would have broken something inside him if Bill had left. "I'm so tired."

It felt so good to be in Bill's arms again. Oliver sighed and finally relaxed completely. This was home, this gorgeous man with shadows in his eyes. Oliver smiled faintly at his whimsical thought, but realised it was true. Bill was his home now, forever. Oliver just had to convince him, and that would be a challenge. One he was honestly not up to tonight. Normally blessed with excess energy, tonight it was all Oliver could do to stay upright. Too much emotion, too much flying, too much cold. Too much everything. "Bed?" he said again, mumbled really.

"Bed," Bill sighed in agreement. He shouldn't stay, and he knew it. He should just leave and never contact Oliver again, and save them both more heartache. But not tonight, not just now when Bill was hurting too and maybe later it would be easier for them to say goodbye when Oliver's face wasn't streaked with dried tears.

Not that it would even change things in the end, because Bill knew what Oliver wanted, what he'd thought he'd get right before Bill had dropped his hopes and dreams to the ground. Bill might feel a certain way, but Oliver couldn't honestly return that feeling without wrapping it up in fantasies of happily ever afters and one and only. That wasn't how life worked and Oliver needed to find that out on his own.

As they made their slow way into the room they had claimed as their hideaway, Bill shoved away his brooding and focused on the now. Because all there was to do was to get through this moment, to get Oliver warmed up and not so broken. _And whose fault is it that he needs it in the first place, Weasley? You were supposed to be avoiding this by sticking around, now weren't you? Bang-up job, that,_ Bill's inner voice taunted, but Bill just told it to piss off, and kissed Oliver's hair.

"Come to bed, Ollie," he murmured, trying to pry himself out of Oliver's tight embrace.

Oliver reflexively clutched at Bill more tightly before it occurred to him that he had to let go so they could get ready for bed. His arms dropped, and he turned away, tugging his jumper off over his head and dropping it to the floor as he stumbled into the adjoining loo. After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, Oliver splashed cold water on his face and pressed cold, wet fingers to his eyes for a moment, trying to soothe the itchy feeling from all that crying. It helped a little. Finally he dried his face, knowing he'd been avoiding going back to the bedroom but also knowing he couldn't avoid it forever, and really couldn't stay awake much longer either.

"Sorry," he mumbled around a yawn, "should've asked if you wanted it first." Oliver dropped his jeans and pants carelessly, leaving them where they fell, and crawled into the bed with a sigh of relief, and without ever looking directly at Bill. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Bill stripped down without a word, sparing a moment to wish he'd packed a pair of pants, because somehow he felt like he oughtn't be naked just now. But then he just climbed in behind Oliver and curled up against his back, spooning close. He should leave, Bill knew. He should get up and get dressed and just go, save them both the uncomfortable days ahead after all this had happened. Yawning, Bill kissed the back of Oliver's neck softly, tenderly, and promised himself he _would_ leave. Soon...

With another yawn, Bill snuggled closer to Oliver's body, warm once more, and fell into sleep with an unconscious sigh of relief.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Oliver stretched as he woke, sliding his legs against Bill's and reveling in the ability to do so. He'd done it yesterday, too, before remembering the hurt Monday had brought. It had been a trifle awkward, neither one of them mentioning it all day and yet both of them clearly thinking about it. They hadn't even had sex. Oliver frowned. That right there was the real tragedy. And now today was his birthday, and if he had to have a birthday, then he was definitely going to have Bill. The frown melted into a slow, wicked smile, and Oliver stretched himself against Bill again.

Humming in pleasure that Oliver was awake at last, Bill hugged him close and kissed his hair. Bill had been awake for a while now, and had been about five minutes away from waking Oliver himself. Of course, it would have been a nice wake-up call, but at least his patience paid off well.

"Good morning, birthday boy," he murmured, grinning. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm," Oliver said and kissed Bill's chest. "Don't say that word." He kissed the warm skin again and nuzzled until he found a soft flat nipple, which he licked slowly. His hand slid down the center of Bill's body to curl around his slowly firming cock.

"What? Birthday?" Bill's voice was a little rougher than before, and he paused to groan softly; Oliver was in one of _those_ moods, and after a full day without any sex, Bill wasn't going to complain in the slightest. Not that he normally would, of course. "But it means you're all grown up now, Ollie-boy."

Oliver squeezed and tugged, hand stroking over Bill's cock as his mouth moved slowly down over the soft skin of Bill's stomach. He shot Bill a look. "It's just another day," he said, "I'm the same person I was yesterday." Then he bent again and pushed his tongue into Bill's navel.

Bill groaned and shifted, undulating under Oliver's hand and mouth as his cock reached full hardness. "I know you are," he said, voice breathy. "But now you're legally grown up and I'm less likely to get into so much shite for dating you, still in school or not."

Instead of pointing out that Bill wasn't exactly _dating_ him, Oliver moved further and took Bill's cock into his mouth. He moaned around the thick flesh, stroking his tongue against the ridges and veins, taking Bill all the way in until the round head bumped the back of his throat.

" _Fuck_ , but that's good," Bill groaned, the fingers of one hand carding through Oliver's short hair. His eyes fluttered shut trustingly, and Bill moaned Oliver's name softly.

 _I love you_. Oliver closed his eyes and concentrated on making Bill feel amazing, wanting Bill to feel how much he loved him. Oliver sucked and licked, hands stroking over strong thighs and slim hips. _Please, love me._

God, but Bill could get lost in how bloody _fantastic_ Oliver made him feel, kissing and sucking and touching. He thrust up gently, groaning again. Oliver seemed to have an obsession with sucking Bill's cock, and Bill couldn't be happier about it. The only thing that could make it better would be... "Please let me fuck you," Bill gasped, hand clenching briefly in Oliver's hair. "Please, Ollie."

"Yes," Oliver groaned, letting go of Bill's cock and kissing quickly up his body. "I want you inside me."

 _Thank god_. Bill didn't deserve it, and he knew it, but that still didn't stop him from holding Oliver close and rolling over, pinning Oliver flat to the bed. Summoning his wand, Bill cast the charm to prepare Oliver, and then kissed a hot, open-mouthed trail up Oliver's neck to his mouth. He wasn't slow now, wasn't lazy; he kissed Oliver hard, pressing his tongue into that familiar mouth, tasting him, marking him all over again, wanting to feel it when Oliver wanted it just as much as he did.

Oliver wrapped arms and legs around Bill to hold him close, stroking Bill's tongue with his own as they kissed again and again. "Please," he whispered between kisses, hips rolling up to rub his cock against Bill's stomach. " _Please_." He _needed_ Bill, so much, needed to reaffirm his claim on Bill after Monday's pain. Needed to give himself to Bill completely, heart and body combined. He choked back the words of love, letting Bill's mouth occupy his own instead.

Bill ran his hands up and down Oliver's sides, fingernails scraping as he went. "Ollie..." he groaned, and reached around Oliver's clinging body to position himself. But Bill's cock was dry, so despite the work the magic had done, he had to push harder than usual to get inside. It was either that or wait, and there was no more time for waiting. "Stop me..." he gasped. "If it hurts..."

"Never," Oliver groaned. "Never stop. Oh god." Oliver's neck arched, head pressing back into the pillows. It was too much, and Oliver wouldn't have traded it for the world. There was absolutely nothing like the way it felt to have Bill push inside. " _Bill_."

Bill panted against Oliver's neck, and then stopped breathing entirely until he was completely inside, buried and wrapped up. All the hair on his body was standing on end, and Bill froze for a moment until the air rushed back into his lungs and Bill started shaking. "Fuck... fuck, so good," he groaned, almost growled, hips twitching but still not really moving.

Oliver threaded his fingers through Bill's hair, his other hand stroking Bill's back soothingly. "I know," he whispered, "god, yes." He kissed Bill's hair. "Fuck me. I want to feel you move."

"Yes," Bill hissed, and levered himself up as he started to move. His eyes were screwed shut, and Bill just gave himself over to the slide in and out, to the clasp of Oliver's body. Soon, he was pounding into Oliver again and again, grunting with his thrusts, hands fisting in the sheets with a white-knuckled grip.

So good. Fuck, it felt so bloody good and Oliver wondered vaguely why the hell they hadn't done this yesterday in spite of everything, because there was nothing more _right_ than the push of Bill into his body over and over again. His fingers dug into the muscles of Bill's back and he tightened his legs around Bill's waist, and gave himself completely to the primal rhythm Bill had set. "Oh fuck," he panted, helpless moans spilling from his throat. "Oh my god. So, nngh, so good." Oliver let one hand slip between them to grab his own cock and tug.

Senseless words of praise, groaned brokenly, fell from Bill's lips as his head fell forward. He just kept on moving, hair spilling loose over his shoulders, framing their faces and cutting them off from everything but _this_ as Bill pressed their foreheads together, panting harshly against Oliver's lips. "Ollie," Bill whimpered, thrusting harder. Arms under and behind Oliver, Bill grabbed one of those strong, solid shoulders and used his grip to pull the younger man into each thrust. "So... so fucking amazing..."

"Yes! Oh, god, yes!" Oliver cried out, writhing helplessly under Bill, brain and body both melting as he gave himself over to Bill, to the moment, to the way it _felt_. "Bill," he said, almost weeping. "Bill." Oliver forced his eyes open so he could see Bill, so close, the strain evident in his expression, eyes screwed shut. "I love you," he mouthed soundlessly while Bill couldn't see. "I love you." And then he gasped and shook as he came, so hard he nearly passed out.

Everything melted away for Bill then, and there was only _this_. This feeling, this moment, with Oliver trembling under and around him, the perfection of hanging on the edge of his own orgasm while Oliver spilled between them. Bill slowed his hips, dragging the moment out, and then it crested inside of him, filling him until he felt like he was exploding, coming until stars lit up behind his eyelids and he threw back his head, giving a strangled shout that might have been in triumph. The hurt, the volumes of things said and unsaid, none of it could come close to this, and he knew it.

"Goddamn," Bill mumbled, collapsing on top of Oliver, shifting only enough so he wouldn't squash him. He pressed lazy, almost tender kisses to the sweaty column of Oliver's throat, and smiled gently, his eyes fluttering open at last.

"Yeah," Oliver mumbled in stunned agreement. He was still panting, heart still racing, body still sparking with pleasure. His hand slowly trailed up and down Bill's back. "Wow." He smiled stupidly, his brain completely incapable of forming words of more than one syllable. "Bill."

"Hmmm..." Bill hummed, nuzzling Oliver's jaw and still smiling. "I didn't know to bring a present for you," he said, though it was more a mumble than anything else as he picked the earlier conversation back up, "so why don't we do something for your birthday? You can pick."

Oliver laughed; he couldn't help it. "I think we just did," he said, still snickering.

Bill snorted and tickled Oliver's side. "Prat," he said affectionately, hand stroking now. "No, I meant something involving us dressed. Going out somewhere. Together, and not just for take-away or the like."

"A date?" Oliver asked, unable to quite keep the incredulity from his voice. "In _public_?"

"Call it whatever you want," Bill said, unable to stop the sudden blush. "But... yes. In public." He freed an arm and brushed the backs of his knuckles along Oliver's cheek. "You're all grown up now, Ollie-boy. Well, at least as far as assorted authorities are concerned. And we can always go somewhere where it won't matter you're not out. If you wanted to go, that is. Either way, I promise you plenty of spectacular birthday shagging."

"I want to go," Oliver said quietly. He cupped Bill's face in one hand and kissed him lightly, smiling. "Imagine that. A real date." His smile widened and then he laughed softly. "And the shagging is always spectacular." Pulling back slightly, Oliver looked at Bill seriously. "I want you to promise me something else before we go."

Bill arched a ginger-coloured eyebrow. "What's that?"

Oliver couldn't maintain the serious expression any more, but he did manage to contain it to just a smile, eyes laughing. "You have to promise not to tell the wait staff it's my birthday. Mum always does and they _sing_ and it's awful."

Scowling, Bill shook his head and kissed Oliver's smiling mouth. "It's a deal then," he said, giving in and chuckling. He tilted Oliver's face, kissed the tip of his nose, and gave a long, relaxed sigh as he rolled away. "I'm going to shower and see about breakfast," he said. "Because I know you're hungry; you always are."

Laughing, Oliver curled around Bill's pillow and watched him go. Damn, he was gorgeous. Once Bill's naked arse disappeared into the loo, Oliver sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't understand why Bill couldn't admit that they were in love. It was so obvious, at least to him. Another sigh and Oliver started to doze, waiting for his turn in the shower. Bill would say it someday. Wouldn't he?

~**~**~**~**~**~

One of Oliver's endearing traits was his remarkable ability to drop off into sleep between one breath and the next, Bill mused. He smiled, relaxed now that no one could see him as he faced Oliver in bed, sharing one large pillow with him, and brushed long, freckled fingers through short dark hair. It was a nicely warm familiarity, to just lie in bed, their legs tangled together as he listened to Oliver's slow breathing.

Bill felt almost guilty for enjoying this intimacy, easily as deep as the physical one they had shared for a while now. He had no right to take pleasure in this peacefulness when he was standing in the way of Oliver's learning to appreciate it. He needed the experiences to compare it to, needed a few years of trying different things on for size before he could properly judge what was the best fit for Oliver. Hell, Bill was several years and countless partners ahead of Oliver, and even he hadn't known he could feel this comfortable, this complete with another person. Which meant, of course, when Oliver moved on, that Bill would be able to put himself back together again and maybe find it again some day.

Not that he really wanted to, but the ability was there, and that idea was enough to keep him going, to keep pushing Oliver to get the life experience he needed to make these sort of emotional decisions for real one day.

"You'll understand why one day," Bill whispered around a strange lump in his throat, and kissed the tip of Oliver's nose as lightly as he could. Oliver, ever the sound sleeper, only smiled and snuggled deeper into the bed, leaning closer to Bill's warmth out of pure instinct. Bill almost pulled Oliver into a proper cuddle, but didn't; there wasn't the time.

It had been a far too-short week, for the most part, but it was over now, and Bill had to go back to Egypt. And while Oliver thought it wouldn't be until the following day, this time Bill hoped to avoid the long, horrible good-byes, and just pull the bandage right off. Besides, he'd already caused enough hurt this visit, anyhow. Another kiss, this one to Oliver's forehead, and Bill eased out of bed, washed up and dressed as quietly as he could manage. He pulled a letter, written earlier while Oliver was in the shower, out of his bag and left it on the nightstand, right next to Oliver's wand.

Bill sat on the bed and traced the lines of Oliver's face one more time, his eyes shadowed and full of proof of his inner turmoil. "I miss you already," he breathed, brushing his thumb over Oliver's sleep-slack lips. He paused another moment longer, as though thinking about saying something more, but just shook his head and stood, scooped up his bag and headed down the stairs before even pulling on his boots. One more longing look back the way he'd come, and then Bill slipped out the door and Apparated away with a decisive pop.

It was only an hour or so later when Oliver reached for Bill instinctively, missing the warmth of Bill's solid body against him even in sleep. His hand slid over cool sheets instead of warm flesh, and it confused him enough to pull him from sound sleep. He cracked one eye open and peered from the depths of the pillow his face was smashed into. Instead of freckles and red hair Oliver saw only the firm slash of his name on an envelope propped next to his wand.

"No," he whispered and shook his head, knowing already what the letter meant without even reading it. He sat up abruptly and fisted his hands in the sheet. "No!" Sheet still in his fist, Oliver pressed his knuckles to his forehead. He sat like that for a long time before finally letting go of the sheet and reaching for the envelope. His hand shook and his throat worked against the lump already forming.

  
 _Dear Oliver,_

 _I'm sorry to sneak out on you like this, but I can't stay away any longer. Nigel might be willing to cover for me, but there's only so much he can do, and I wouldn't want him paying for my unscheduled holiday, you know? Besides, I thought it best if we parted on a high note this time, since you always look so miserable when I leave. You'll want to remember that some day; always try to leave them smiling._

 _Now here's the part where I'm a well-mannered boy: Thank you very much for having me... and having me over. I had a very nice visit, and I hope we can do it again soon._

 _Very soon, even._

 _I'll write soon, and you have to let me know how the match with Hufflepuff goes, and when you pass your Apparation exam (which we both know you'll pass with flying colours, since you've been at it for months now, anyhow). I look forward to your next letter._

 _L,_

 _~Bill_

"Goddammit," Oliver growled. His eyes stung, but he blinked rapidly, choosing to be angry instead of letting the hurt swamp him. Bill hadn't even had the decency to say goodbye. Oliver nearly crumpled the letter but dropped it to the bed at the last second, knowing even through the roil of emotion that he'd want to save this one with all the others Bill had written. Instead, he grabbed the pillow and threw it at the night table, knocking the lamp there to the floor and shattering it. The crash made him feel slightly better. He stomped into the loo and then back out when he was done, and dressed warmly so he could stomp downstairs and out, kicking off viciously and flying up in a rush even though it was the middle of the night, finding some solace in the wind and his broom as he always did. Bill could wait until hell froze over; Oliver was not writing back. Or at least not first.

~**~**~**~**~

 _25 April, 1993_

Thanks _EVER_ so much for sparing me the agony of saying goodbye. I've discovered it's much easier to just WAKE UP IN THE NIGHT AND FIND YOU GONE. I've also, thanks to you, discovered a new appreciation for night flying. Let's meet up soon so you can leave me again without notice. It's incredibly ~~entertaining~~ refreshing.

Oliver

~*~*~*~*~*~

  
 _29 April, 1993_

Oliver,

Well. I reckon you've told me, Mum. I've certainly learnt my lesson, and it'll be a long time before I make the mistake of trying to be nice to you again.

Now I'm afraid I've got to close this letter, as nice as it was to hear from you. Do take care, and mind your classes.

 _~Bill_

~*~*~*~*~*~

 _2 May, 1993_

Don't you _dare_ try to make this my fault. That was the best birthday I have ever had, and then poof. You disappeared without a fucking _word_. And a letter doesn't count. Dammit, I miss you. I hate that you're so far away and you wouldn't even let me say goodbye. I'm _sorry_. I'll try to leave you smiling next time, just don't do that again. Please, Bill. I'm sorry.

Oliver

~*~*~*~*~*~

 _5 May, 1993_

  
Oliver,

I never said a word about anything being anyone's fault. Much less about wanting any sort of apology for your near-howler; it was a shitty thing to do, to leave you like that, and I know it, but I can't help it if I hate seeing that look on your face that you got at Christmas and in February, too. I already know you miss me. You tell me in your letters, you tell me when we see each other; do we really need to beat it in when we say goodbye, pretending that you aren't acting like someone's just killed your favourite puppy?

Besides, I reckon you were upset enough during my visit, I didn't need to make it any worse. At least you're cross with me instead of sniffling. I'm not sorry that I left like that, ~~just that I had to leave at all~~ because it was the best as I could see it of the bad choices I had in front of me. So go on and glower and glare, send me nasty owls; I expected it. And when you want to talk like an adult again, we can maybe have a real conversation.

 _~Bill_


End file.
